His black Benz stood parked at the foot of the driveway. The front door opened as I approached, and there he was—Vincent. He stood tall and formidable in a sharp charcoal suit, resembling every bit like the successful businessman he embodied.
“You’re here,” he said as I approached him. His voice carried a hint of surprise.
“You sound surprised.” I crossed my arms and eyed him suspiciously. “Everything okay?”
Vincent didn't answer right away. Instead, he ran his fingers through his dark hair before ushering me inside. I stepped into the grandiose foyer, with its high ceiling and opulent chandelier casting soft light in every direction.
“Take a look around.” Vincent closed the door behind me.
His eyes were not as bright as I remembered. There was an evident heaviness that hadn’t been there before, which stirred unease deep within me. I turned my gaze to survey the room; the walls were freshly painted in a soft, inviting hue, the floors gleaming and untouched. It was beautiful and intimidating all at once. A grand staircase was just ahead, its oak railing polished to perfection, leading to the second floor. To the right, French doors opened into a cozy living room with plush couches and an impressive fireplace. On the left was a spacious dining room boasting elaborate décor and a long mahogany table in the middle.
“This place is… stunning,” I breathed out, unable to hold back my awe. Vincent didn’t respond immediately; instead, he walked toward the living room. “I had no idea you’ve been doing all this.” I gestured to the evidence surrounding us.
“Follow me,” he called over his shoulder.
I trailed behind him, my eyes taking in every intricate detail of this enormous house. He led me toward the back, where glass doors revealed an expansive garden. The sight caused me to pause; it was breathtakingly beautiful, with its manicured lawn and flowers in full bloom. “I had them plant red roses, and the grass is fake for now.” Vincent broke the silence, his tone off-key. “You always loved roses. They won’t last long because of the weather, but this place needed some color.” Vincent walked until he stood an inch away from my body and took my hands in his strong palms. He ran his thumbs along my inner wrists, sending chills down my spine, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor. “I know the threats have stopped, but I feel no better. It’s like the silence is worse than the noise.”
My heart lurched.
“I know what you mean.” I peered down at his hands enveloping mine. His cold fingers bit into my skin.
Vincent looked up at me then, his dreamy blue eyes filled with something close to desperation.
“Wendy.” Vincent was an inch from breaking. “I can’t be here.”
My heart fucking hit the floor. What the hell did that mean? Was he leaving me…again?
“And I want you to come with me.” His grip tightened around my hands. “Just for a little while until I know it’s safe.”
“I’m not running, Vincent.” I wrestled my sweaty hands free. “We’re going to figure this out here. Together. Just what I’ve been saying since you came back.”
“It’s not safe. No news isn’t good news.” Vincent stepped toward me, but I stepped back.
“You can’t keep doing this.” I shook my head, my nerves thrumming. I couldn’t take this, and I refused.
“We’ll come back. It’s just temporary. A change of scene. Think of it as a getaway.”
The words sounded hollow even to him. His eyes, once so full of life and vibrancy, now held a shade of desperation that quelled any retort I had in mind.
“Vincent,” I began, my voice wavering. “This isn't a game. We can't run whenever things get tough.” I stepped back into his shadow and, for the first time, saw the raw fear cutting across his face. Vincent believed we were…I was in danger, and it was ripping him apart.
“One weekend. That’s all I ask.” Vincent held up one shaky finger, and witnessing his nerves on display shattered my heart.
“I have a life here, my restaurant. I’m not giving it up all because you’re scared. And all you know how to do is run,” I spat, turning my back on Vincent and staring out the window overlooking the ocean.
“But it doesn't mean anything if you're not safe, Wendy,” he pleaded, stepping behind me. Through the glass, I spotted Vincent’s hands hovering above my shoulders as if he were afraid to touch me. “You don't understand how serious this is.”
My teeth gritted against one another, anger flaring up like a beacon. “Don't patronize me, Vincent! I'm not some clueless ditz for you to rescue. If there's danger, then we face it together.”
He made a noise in his throat—a half-choked laugh, half groan. “Is that what this is about? Your pride?”
“No!” I spun around, my eyes flashing, meeting his. “It's about our lives. About not letting fear control you again.”
“Would you stop reminding me what happened? I’ve been trying my fucking hardest to prove to you I’m here. And I have been here for months. I proposed to you. I am trying to give you the world.” Vincent stalked me like a hungry predator, forcing me against the cool glass. “One weekend. That’s it, Wendy. If I can’t figure something out or see that maybe I am going crazy, we’ll come back here. Together.” Vincent cupped my face, bringing his lips inches from my mouth. “I promise I’m not asking you to give anything up. But, please. Trust me this time. And going forward. If you don’t trust me and constantly think I will leave, this won’t work. We won’t work. You have to trust me.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” My blood simmered beneath my skin.
“I’m not saying you do. But I’m asking you to. Just one weekend.”